Rue's Death Told from Rue's POV
by 99LesMisAccounts
Summary: "You have to win." I choke, and I feel my breathing getting heavier. "I'm going to. Going to win for the both of us now."


The leaves on the tree shake slightly as a loud "bam!" rumbles the ground. I feel a smile spread across my face. Katniss has done it! She's found some way, as seemingly impossible as it is, to blow up the Career's food. Happiness floods through me. Maybe, somewhere in it, there's a faint sense of guilt. Should I feel guilty, though? My stomach tightens as I think about the pile of food, and how now that it's gone, they'll need to find other ways to get food. No. I can't think that. I can't feel sorry for them. They don't even give other people chances of winning, they're horrible. Tears begin to fill my eyes as I remember the day, only the first night in the arena, them brutally stab the girl who lit the fire. I didn't know her, but she seemed so nice. It's not fair, alliances shouldn't be allowed in the Games. But then, where would I be right now without Katniss?

Her name makes me remember that I should whistle my four-note call to let her know everything's okay. I put my fingers up to my lips and blow the pattern I've done so many times before. When I'm finished, I hear the mockingjays in the vicinity start to call it to one another. The mockingjays near Katniss will soon pick up the other mockingjays call, and Katniss will know I'm okay.

I hear loud footsteps, and I whirl around. I don't see anyone, but I can still hear it. "Katniss?" I call, feeling fear running up my spine. Is it her? It can't be. Only a couple minutes ago I heard the explosion, she couldn't have gotten back that fast.

Something flies quickly in front of my vision, and then, I'm pinned to the ground by something. I struggle under it, not really knowing what it is. A tree limb? A Career? I feel my chest start to slow, my breath comes in sharp gasps, it's too heavy, it's weighing down my chest, and I can't breathe. Suddenly, the pattern I'm seeing the world through comes into focus. I recognize the array of triangles from back home. It's a net. I'm trapped under a heavy net, and I don't know who's thrown it.

"Katniss!" I scream, hoping she's nearby, or at least she can hear me, and find me, because this is so heavy I'm beginning to lose air. "Katniss!" I scream again, too shocked to cry. My limbs begin to ache with the pain of struggling, and I stop, the fighting have gone out of me. "Please, Katniss," I whisper, feeling a tear rolling down my cheek.

And then, I hear it. "Rue! Rue, I'm coming!" It's Katniss's voice, and that somehow strengthens me. I begin to squirm again, fighting against the net. And then a black braid whips into view, and but someone else does, too. A boy, one from District 4, and he has a long spear in his hand. But it's not in his hand anymore—a horrible guttural sound comes out of me, and a pain so intense it makes me want to faint hits my stomach. I feel tears rolling down my face, and I begin to openly cry. No matter what I told Caesar Flickerman, it was obvious I wasn't going to win the Games. I can't remember the last time a twelve-year old has. Then it dawns on me. I'm going to die, right here, right now. I have so much to say to my mother, I need to tell her how much I love her, and my little brother and sister—"Is there any more?"—I need them to be brave, and they can't ever be chosen for the Games, can they? Isn't there a rule against that? "Rue! Is there anymore?" I hear Katniss's voice and realize she's talking to me. Her words process in my brain, but I don't know if there is, so I just say softly, "No." She looks around, she hasn't heard me. "No." I say louder. "No."

Relief spreads across her face, and she's at my side, bending down, ripping up the net. The pain worsens in my stomach, and travels up to my lungs, and I feel blood in my mouth. I cough, and I feel something warm run across my face.

My head is lifted up, and then rested down, and I'm staring up into Katniss's face. I heard the explosion, but I need to be sure. "You blew up the food?" I whisper, trying to keep my voice from shaking. She tilts her head down, and a tear falls down her face and onto my shirt. "Every last bit." My hand, dirty and small, finds her own, and I clutch onto it. The Careers must not win. They can't do this again. Someone else, someone from a smaller district has too. "You have to win." I choke, and I feel my breathing getting heavier.

"I'm going to. Going to win for the both of us now." She nodded once, as if to clarify the promise. A loud "Boom" sounded and Katniss's head whipped around, searching for the source of the noise. I clutched onto her hand tighter. "Don't go," I cried. The pain in my stomach was becoming unbearable, and I know my time's running out, so I go through the list of what to ask her in my head while she's whispering a promise of not going anywhere, staying right here. But only one request comes to mind, and I breathe in, trying to find enough air, and murmur, "Sing." I need music, something to make me feel like I'm dying at home, and as she starts to sing quietly, and run her hand through my dark curls, I imagine that she's my mother, crooning out a lullaby, and that I'm going to be okay, and I'll wake up soon.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

_I'm playing in a meadow, which is a brilliant shade of green but somehow doesn't hurt my eyes, with my little sister and brother. She's laughing as I chase her around, her dark hair cascading down her back. My brother's hiding behind a tree, but he knows I can really see him, and that I'll pretend to be surprised when I find him, and then chase both of them around the field. My mother's off in the distance, laughing and clapping her hands, a smile that seems almost fake it's so wide._

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes And when again they open, the sun will rise

_I'm laying in bed, feeling hot and scratchy and sick. I know I'm young, four, maybe, because I have soft green blanket over me, one that I only had when I was little. My father's singing a quiet tune, while stirring a warm pot of broth. He lifts a strong hand and places it behind my back, tilting me upwards, and gently pushes the spoon into my mouth. Clear, hot, broth, runs down my throat, and my lips manage to turn upwards._

Here it' safe, here it is warm Here the daises guard you from every harm

_I'm sitting by a fire, roasting roots of a plant on a stick. It's winter, and there's not a lot of food to eat, and of course no meat in the winter, so we survive on plants and roots. But it's enough just being with my family, guiding my brother's hand so he toasts the roots but doesn't accidentally have it catch on fire. My father and my mother are holding hands, smiling warmly at one another. It's cozy, and perfect._

Here your dreams are sweet an tomorrow beings them true

_I'm resting on a log, laughing with Katniss, as I gnaw on the leg of a groosling. My belly feels full of food for the first time in ages, and I'm happy. Genuinely happy, and I know I can trust Katniss. She wanted me for an ally, and since the first day I saw her I wanted her. This is working out so well. I hope we can stay here forever, feeling full and happy. _

Here is the place where I love you."

Voices are calling my name, but I can't go with them. I somehow know I'll never see Katniss if I go with them, never get to eat or laugh or talk with her, and from the hazy white fog, I see one glimpse of Katniss's tear-streaked face, her voice still moving, and try to say "Good-bye", but no words come, and, suddenly, I'm not in pain anymore.


End file.
